


Stupid Is As Stupid Does

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Car Sex, Come play, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Gore, Reader Insert, Smut, Torture, Unrequited Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:03:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8097916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: This is my entry for Chels and Frenchy Hit 100 Writing Challenge. I had two prompts: 17. “She’s so out of your league, you might not be playing the same sport.” 64. “She doesn’t love me. She’s not that stupid.” This has turned into a two parter, because it’s gotten so long….whoops?





	1. Chapter 1

 

Three weeks since she’d shown up on his doorstep, bag in hand and an apologetic smile. Of course, neither Dean or Sam could turn her away, not after the times they’d shared. So she’d stepped inside, claiming the furthest bedroom for her own and not a single word was spoken of the tears both brother overheard that first night.

There was no need to pry, as she spilt the beans the next day, explaining that her long term relationship, with another hunter no less, had ended and she hadn’t seen it coming. He’d been her teenage sweetheart, families thrown together by mutual tragedy, and in every way, she’d expected them to be forever.

But a succubus and the lure of new adventures had driven them apart, and she’d found herself running before she could be hurt any more. Dean had wanted to hunt him down, of course, but Y/N was insistent that it wasn’t necessary - he’d only make things worse. She just wanted to get on with her life, and her job, and both Winchesters could appreciate that.

Except, she threw herself into it a little  _ too _ well. It was almost reminiscent of Dean’s behaviour, when he was troubled; hunting non-stop, fighting, drinking and...well, they’d not  _ seen _ any of the men Y/N would pick up at bars, but they knew she was doing something reckless.

It was easy to see the reaction from Dean, and after three weeks of moodiness from his brother, Sam had finally snapped. Watching Y/N head out for another night, in another bar, with Dean staring after her like she was the holy grail - the younger Winchester had had enough.

‘Dean, why don’t you say something?’

Almost as if he was being dragged out of a daydream, Dean blinked and looked at his brother with a frown. ‘Got no idea what you’re talking about, Sammy.’

Sam’s brow dipped, as his mouth quirked upwards in a joking smile. ‘Come on, Dean. You’ve been harbouring a crush on Y/N since she crash landed in Dad’s motel room fifteen years ago.’ Dean’s mouth narrowed into a line, and his green eyes flared in a warning that Sam would normally heed, but today, he wasn’t letting it drop. ‘You can’t tell me that her showing up, finally done with that whatshisface, isn’t the best thing that’s happened in a long time.’

‘Yeah, because hitting on a chick when she’s emotionally vulnerable is the thing to do.’ Dean scoffed, standing up and grabbing his beer in one hand. ‘I’m not gonna tell you more than once, Sam. Drop. It.’ He turned away, not waiting for his brother’s reply before he left the room. Sam watched him go, rolling his eyes.

*****

‘Y/N. A lovely surprise.’ Crowley peered down at the bowl that was now smouldering with the remnants of the summoning spell, before glancing at the forest floor around him. ‘No devil’s trap? Not like you. Sloppy, if I may.’

You narrowed your eyes in his direction, folding your arms over your chest. ‘I know you won’t hurt me.’

Crowley chuckled. ‘You have a lot of faith. I like that. Bravado. Always was your spunk that kept you alive.’ He looked around. ‘No boyfriend? Or has Gary given up the hunting life?’

‘It was Grant, and no. He and I -’ You swallowed, shaking your head. ‘It’s none of your business.’ The demon’s expression was knowing, and you scowled. ‘I need information.’

‘You’ve been spending too much time with those Winchesters. It’s dulled your manners, love.’

You sighed, dropping your arms to your sides. ‘You gonna help me or not?’

Crowley grinned, spreading his arms and bowing. ‘Anything for a pretty face. What do you need?’

Sucking in a breath, you tried not sound pathetic. This was revenge, pure and simple. You needed closure and the only to get that - ‘I need to know where a succubus called Tanya is.’

He looked surprised at the request, so he obviously didn’t know too much about your lovelife. He didn’t know that the demon bitch you were after was the same demon that Grant had fallen into bed with - repeatedly and without the benefit of her magical lure. As it turned out, your devotion and love for him was nothing in the face of something new, exciting, and dressed like a whore.

She’d been done with him quicker than he’d been done with her, and when he’d crawled back to you, thinking your shattered heart could mend after the things he’d done and said, you’d kicked him out on his ear, packed up your things and ran to the only people you’d considered family any more. It had been two months since the split, and nearly a month with the Winchesters, and still it hurt more gutturally than any physical wound you’d ever suffered.

‘May I ask why?’ Crowley’s voice was curious, and you sighed.

‘I’d rather you didn’t, but I can’t stop you.’

‘Well, it seems to me you have a rather  _ personal _ vendetta against one of the best whores in the business,’ he pointed out. ‘Yet, that’s not entirely the source of your pain, is it, pet?’

You frowned at him, rearing back a little in surprise. ‘I want revenge on the bitch that ruined a ten year relationship, Crowley. That’s it.’

‘Really think that’ll make you feel better?’ He asked, and you felt your patience stretch a little further. ‘I mean, it seems to me, you’re not so much cut up about the loss of the relationship, you just want payback. I don’t mind helping - Tanya isn’t so good for business when she’s not really  _ doing _ anything with her abilities.’ Your teeth ground together as you thought about the slut’s abilities and what they’d done to your future. ‘But, sweetheart, were you really that happy with Greg?’

‘ _ Grant _ .’ You spat, wondering why it even mattered. He was out of your life. You couldn’t care less now what he did with his.

Crowley chuckled. ‘I think you’re more upset at the time you wasted with him than anything.’ He moved to the side, hands buried in his pockets as he watched you through a sideways glance. ‘I could help you make him pay, if you’d like.’

You shook your head, your fists clenching at your sides. ‘No. I don’t...I don’t want revenge on him. That’s done. I’m over him.’

The demon in front of you sniggered. ‘So why the need to hurt Tanya?’

Anger unfolded in your chest, and you practically snarled at him. ‘Because ten years of my life went down the fucking drain, all because of her. I put everything into what I had with that asshole, and I could have...I could have…’

‘Been spending it with someone else?’ Crowley’s words struck you dead centre and you froze. ‘Like a certain green eyed hunter with a fetish for black shiny Chevy’s?’ He laughed, and you tried to think of a comeback, anything to stop his easy reading of your feelings. ‘It’s not difficult to see, darling. I’ve seen you together. You and Dean Winchester could have been the power couple of the hunting world - or something like that - but you winged it all on poor old George.’

You didn’t even bother correcting his mistake this time, as you pulled a knife from the inside of your jacket. It wasn’t going to do much damage, but you were used to having to bolster your threats. ‘Goddamn it, Crowley, I’m not here for a fucking Dr Phil hour, just tell me where the bitch is!’

He held his hands up, the smile still on his face. ‘Ease up, Y/N. She’s in Cañon City.’

Confusion crossed your face as you lowered the knife. ‘But that’s...that’s where I left her. Why the hell would she still be there?’

Crowley shrugged, a knowing smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. ‘I couldn’t divulge that information. But you’ll find her easy enough.’ And he was gone, leaving you alone in the small clearing. You looked down at the altar you’d created to summon him, briefly considering summoning him back, before deciding that there wasn’t any point.

Turning away, you headed back to your car, aiming for the bunker. You needed a bit more than your pocket knife and a handgun for taking Tanya down.

*****

The door to the bunker opened less than ninety minutes after you’d left, and Dean sat up straight at the table, where he’d rejoined Sam on the condition that his brother stop talking. Both Winchesters looked at each other in concern, before seeing you walk down the stairs, heading for your room without so much as a glance at them.

‘Y/N?’ Dean called, getting up and following you, noticing that you didn’t stop when he called your name again.

‘I don’t have time, Dean. I gotta go to Cañon City.’ You pushed open your door, moving to pack a duffel bag with a few clothes and some weapons. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow night. Maybe the night after.’

‘You’re going home?’ Dean’s heart thundered into his stomach as you kept throwing stuff into the bag, and he swallowed down his nervousness. ‘Are you going back...to….’

Your eyes shot up, focusing on him with intent. ‘No, I’m not. But I’ve got some business to take care of.’

His eyes dropped to the bag of weapons, one eyebrow arching upwards. ‘Some business involving sharp, pointy things?’ You tried to keep the guilt off of your face, but failed miserably. ‘And guns?’ A shrug of your shoulders made Dean frown. ‘Y/N, is it a hunt?’

‘Sort of. But nothing I can’t handle on my own.’

‘We’re coming with you,’ he announced, not willing to let you go off on your own, despite the fact that he knew you were more than capable.

‘No, Dean, it’s fine, it’s just a little thing, and I’ll be home and -’

He shook his head. ‘I can’t watch you walk out that door, Y/N. We watch each other’s backs, remember?’ The promise he’d made to you so long ago when you were both so fucking young; a promise that hadn’t really stood up to the years. Sure, there had been hunts that you’d called him in on, and vice versa, but with everything they were dealing with and  _ had _ dealt with...you couldn’t be another burden on his shoulders.

‘I just need to do this,’ you replied, keeping your voice low. ‘Then I can move on.’

Dean’s eyes widened and you thought you spotted panic in his expression. ‘Move on? As in...leave...leave here?’ You nodded, unsure of why he was reacting that way. ‘But I thought -’ He cut himself off, clearing his throat. ‘You know you don’t have to, right?’

Oh god, you didn’t want to go there right now. Crowley’s words still sat heavily in the back of your mind; a waste of a decade with the wrong guy, but how the hell could you turn around and tell Dean that? It was too much to deal with.

‘I’ll be back within a couple days, okay?’ You brushed past him, ignoring his footsteps as he followed you, his voice ringing out as he called Sam for back up. Facing the pair of them together would be impossible, and you did the only thing you could think of.

You bolted up the stairs, out of the door, hearing Dean close behind you. Allowing the door to slam, and automatically lock allowed you a few seconds of advantage, and by the time he had the door open again, you were already pushing the car down the makeshift driveway, away from the bunker.

*****

Dean’s mouth fell open as he watched Y/N’s car speed away, the engine struggling to put up with the demand of her foot on the gas. Sam came up behind him, shaking his head. ‘Did she say where she was going?’

‘Cañon City.’ Dean muttered, his feet crunching in the leaves as he watched her car get smaller and smaller, before disappearing entirely from sight. ‘She’s hunting something, but she...she wouldn’t say what.’

‘I’d be going after her, if I were you.’ Crowley’s voice made both brother’s jump, and almost automatically, Dean’s hands were pulling a gun from his waistband, aiming for the King Of Hell as he walked into view with his hands held up. ‘White flag.’

‘What do you want?’

‘She’s going after Tanya. The succubus who seduced her boyfriend.’

Dean glanced at Sam, knowing succubi were notoriously sneaky and hard to kill. ‘What do you know about it?’ He asked.

‘I happen to know that Tanya remained where she was because she decided Y/N’s former flame would be the perfect draw. Y/N has killed more than a few demons in her tenure as a hunter.’

Sam shrugged. ‘We all have.’

Crowley chuckled. ‘And you two know better than most how vengeful demons can be. Y/N thinks she’s riding off to an easy kill, but Tanya is waiting for her. Now, I have every faith in your girl, Dean, but -’

‘She’s not my girl,’ Dean ground out, only making Crowley laugh again.

‘Are you sure about that? I mean, of course,  **she’s so out of your league, you might not be playing the same sport.** But she’s very much your girl, Dean.’ The demon raised an eyebrow. ‘And she’s running right into the expectant arms of a succubus, and you  _ know _ how petty they can get where it comes to torturing their prey.’

Dean looked up at Sam again, and the younger Winchester took the hint, moving back into the bunker. ‘Why are you so concerned about her wellbeing?’ Dean asked, intending on keeping Crowley busy whilst Sam got the Impala from the garage.

Crowley shrugged. ‘I’ve got a soft spot for the girl. She’s not pondscum like you two. Maybe, just maybe, the girl can get some manners into the pair of you. If she’s not  _ dead _ first.’ He waved a hand, taking a few steps back. ‘Stop panicking, Dean. Occasionally I like people. Y/N is one of them. So get your arse into gear, and go save her!’ He gave a flamboyant gesture before disappearing entirely. Dean blinked, lowering his gun as the garage doors trundled open and Baby appeared, Sam at the wheel.

Checking the area one more time, Dean climbed in, as Sam gunned the engine.

They were twenty minutes behind. How bad could it be?

*****

Pulling into  Cañon City, you sighed, not missing your old home much. It had been a base of operations from which you and Grant hunted, and maybe if you’d been inclined, a good place for a family. But that wasn’t on the cards, maybe it never had been. You were a hunter, and that was all that you had now.

The sun was rising behind you, and you knew it would be best to find somewhere to crash. Driving down the old streets, you wondered if Grant would have much objection to you sleeping on the couch - he knew the life after all. It was worth a try at least, instead of spending all morning looking for a vacancy at a motel.

Your old home loomed at the end of 6th and Main, and you swallowed thickly, pulling the car to a stop before climbing out, duffel bag in hand. The house was dark, and the yard was seriously overgrown since you’d last seen it. Odd, because Grant was always so intent on mowing the lawn, like it was the be all and end all of normal life.

Climbing the four steps to the front door, you knocked gingerly, not expecting anyone to answer. You’d pretty much resigned yourself to sleeping in the back seat of your beaten up Ford, so when Grant answered the door, you took a step back in surprise.

‘Grant!’ He looked awful - bloodshot eyes, unkempt hair and clothes wrinkled like he’d been sleeping in them. He’d lost a lost of weight too - his once muscled physique was worn down, his cheeks gaunt and his throat almost hollowed in. ‘I’m sorry, I know it’s early, but -’

‘Y/N?’ He seemed confused as he stared at you. ‘Why did you come? Why...why...you…’

You smiled. ‘I need somewhere to crash for a few hours. Got a local hunt. Surprised you aren’t in on it.’ The lies flowed easily, and Grant tiled his head, his brunette hair almost flopping to the side as he moved. ‘Mind if I borrow the couch?’

He looked behind him, and you wondered if he’d been drinking. He seemed so out of it, so far from the skilled hunter you’d known. Looking back to you, he shrugged. ‘Sure, yeah. I guess.’ He stood back, opening the door wide for you, and you stepped into what had once been your house, seeing the piles of rubbish and filth everywhere. Glimpsing the kitchen, you saw stacks of dishes and takeaway containers, and you couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose in disgust at how he’d let himself go.

Grant, however, didn’t seem phased. He walked into the living room, which seemed untouched and dusty, moving cushions off the couch. ‘Make yourself comfortable. Sorry the place is a mess. I’ve been -’ He stopped, trailing off and looking up at the ceiling almost as though he was listening. You stared at him, concerned for his wellbeing more than anything. It was like he’d gone insane after you’d left. ‘Busy.’ He finished, looking down at you with expressionless eyes. ‘I have to go back upstairs.’

‘Okay.’ You spoke slowly, giving him a wide berth as he headed for the stairs like a zombie. The soft thud of his footsteps on the stairs echoed away and you sat down, frowning in concern. He really had gone off the deep end. Maybe you shouldn’t have rushed away so quickly if this was how broken it made him.

A yawn split your face and you stretched, curling up onto the couch, remembering all the times you’d fallen asleep here before. It was comfortable and familiar, and it wasn’t long before you were sound asleep, unaware that Grant had come back downstairs and was watching you from the doorway, the whispers of his mistress in his head, instructing him.

*****

Dean growled and slammed his hands on the dashboard as her phone went to voicemail for the fifth time. ‘This is ridiculous. How could we not know her address?’ He directed his venom-filled question to Sam, who shrugged in the driver's seat, directing the car towards the motel just outside of town.

‘I guess, we weren’t really welcome, Dean. Grant didn’t like us, remember? And she was...she was happy. We only saw her on cases, and none of that involved a home visit.’

The elder Winchester threw his phone in the backseat, dragging the palms of his hands over his face. ‘I need to find her, Sam. Before it’s too late. Crowley’s involvement only spells badness.’

Sam nodded, concern plastered on his face as he pulled the Impala into a parking spot. ‘Let’s get into a room and we can make some calls. Someone in town has to have her address. Maybe they’ve got a phone book?’

Dean’s green eyes lit up at that thought. As soon as Sam was done paying for the room, he was thumbing through the phonebook, scowling as Grant’s last name escaped him. ‘Sam, I can’t remember that douchebags last name.’

His brother frowned, pulling out his phone. ‘Erm, I think...wasn’t it Sanderson...Sanders...something like that?’ He clicked through his phone, looking up at Dean in frustration when he located Grant’s number. ‘You changed it to “douchebag” on here, so I can’t get it.’ Dean grinned as Sam rolled his eyes. ‘I’m sure it was Sand-something.’

‘Ah-ha!’ Dean cried triumphantly, ripping out the page of the phone book. ‘Grant Sandford. Shit name. Wouldn’t have gone with hers anyway.’ He smirked at his brother. ‘Got his address. Come on, she might have been there for hours already. We wasted time driving around.’

Sam shook his head as Dean bolted out of the door, trying not to yawn as his brother scrambled into the driver’s seat. ‘Dean, I’m sure she’s not gonna be in any danger this quickly. She’s probably asleep. Like we should be.’

‘Not sleepin’ til I know she’s safe.’ Dean replied, slamming the door of the car as Sam climbed in beside him, long legs folding into the footwell. ‘Buckle up, little brother.’ Sam made a discontented noise as Dean put Baby into drive, wincing at the squeal of her tyres on the asphalt.

It was a ten minute drive to the address Grant was listed at, but the sun was already high in the sky and people were bustling around the streets. Sam watched out of the window, trying to ignore Dean’s impatient tapping on the wheel. It was nearly ten in the morning now, and Y/N could have been in trouble for too long already.

‘This is it.’ Dean said, his voice a little too high as he tried to contain the nervous energy running through him. ‘Shit, that doesn’t look good.’ He pointed to Y/N’s car, parked badly against the sidewalk. She’d never been fantastic at parking - something Dean teased her about mercilessly. But her bad parking wasn’t the worry here - the tyres on the car had been slashed and fluid dripped steadily from underneath the car, like the lines had been cut.

‘Someone didn’t want her leaving,’ Sam muttered, following Dean’s lead and climbing from the car with his gun readied. It was a quiet residential area, so hopefully, not too many witnesses. As they approached the house, Sam noted that there were no lights on and the curtains were all drawn.

‘Sam…’ Dean caught his brother’s attention, nodding down at the smears of red on the porch, almost like someone had been dragged across the boards. ‘I don’t like this.’

Sam frowned, feeling exactly the same, hanging back as Dean tried the front door. It was locked, but no match for the Winchester lock picking skills. As Sam covered his back, Dean crouched down and picked the lock efficiently, and the door swung open to show darkness.

The overwhelming smell of sulphur hit them first, and Dean’s eyes widened in panic. He stepped over the threshold into the house, seeing your duffel bag abandoned by the living room archway. More blood stained the hallway carpet, and Dean kept his gun held high, feeling Sam at his back as he walked further into the house.

‘I should have known you two would follow her here.’ Grant’s voice was quiet and scratchy, and both Winchesters swung their weapons towards the gaunt looking hunter on the couch, his eyes unfocused as he stared at nothing. ‘She’s already gone.’

‘Gone?’ Dean walked around the still man, checking if he was armed. ‘Gone where?’

‘Tanya took her. Said she knew you two would turn up, and she didn’t fancy dealing with it. Y/N was out cold, so she wouldn’t fight.’ Grant’s tone was even, almost like he was bored. ‘She told me to stay here and deal with it.’

‘Deal with it?’ Sam questioned, keeping the muzzle of his gun trained on Grant’s head. ‘How?’

Grant sighed, sounding uninterested. ‘She didn’t care. As long as I stalled you.’

Dean’s eyes flew to Sam, who held out a hand with the palm facing up. ‘It’s fine, Dean, we’re gonna get to her.’

‘I don’t know,’ Grant droned. ‘She’d lost quite a lot of blood. I guess, she might still be alive. It depends how Tanya wants to play it.’

‘How can you talk about her like that?’ Dean spat. ‘She loved you, man.’

Grant looked up at him, dead eyes clashing with Dean’s and the other hunter repressed a shudder. Whatever the succubus had done to him, it had sucked out whatever Grant had left inside. This man was a shell, a hollow worker for the demon who had control over him. ‘She never loved me. She always wanted you more. She just...settled.’

‘You don’t sound too angry about it,’ Sam commented.

‘What the hell did that thing do to you?’

Another sigh left the deadened hunter on the couch. ‘Succubi feed off souls. I thought Tanya might love me, like Y/N loved you...but she just wanted me to get at her. All anyone wants me for.’ He stood up, prompting Dean to click his gun, re-aiming. ‘Anyway, she wants you dead, or me dead, or whatever. I guess I should try and make an effort.’ Grant reached into his waistband, pulling out a gun, but he looked disinterested in it, almost like he was stoned. ‘Do you wanna just shoot me, or we can -’

‘I’m not gonna shoot you, man, just...just put the gun down.’

Grant’s eyes rolled up in his head, and he tilted it to the side, almost like he was listening to something. ‘No.’ He nodded, sighing again. ‘She wants you dead.’ He swung the gun up, taking aim, but before he could even think about pulling the trigger, Dean shot him, the bullet piercing his wrist. Grant dropped the gun, looking at the wound dispassionately. ‘Oh.’

Dean looked at Sam, his mouth agape as Sam watched in horror. Grant pulled his wrist towards him, prodding the hole with his opposing fingers, watching blood drip out and onto the carpet.

‘Well, that’s probably not good.’

Sam stepped forward, using the butt of his gun to knock the man out cold, and Grant crumpled onto the couch. ‘We need to tie him up. Try and fix him.’

‘I could give two shits. We need to know what that bitch took Y/N.’ Dean holstered his gun, walking over to Grant, and picking up his phone. ‘What about her GPS? Do you think Tanya would have turned that off? Y/N always keeps her phone in her back pocket on silent.’

‘Dean -’

‘Sam! This is important.’

‘I know! But you’re rushing. I’ll check the GPS. You tie him up.’ Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Sam shook his head, moving to grab your duffel bag as Dean scowled. Looking around, he realised the flaw in Sam’s plan.

‘Er, Sam?’

‘Dean! I’m trying okay -’

‘No rope.’

‘Ah.’ He pointed towards the front door. ‘Car? I think I left some in the trunk after the last time we needed it.’

Dean paused. ‘Our lives sound like kinky sex stories on occasion.’ He didn’t wait for an answer, running out the door quickly, to the car. The rope was tucked into the trunk, at the back, and he grabbed it before pelting back into the house at full speed. Sam held up his phone as he walked in, smiling.

‘Fatal error by demon bitch number one.’ He said, handing the phone to his brother as he took the rope. ‘She’s other side of town. Looks like industrial district. Probably a warehouse, nice and traditional.’ Dean nodded, looking at the location, tracing his fingers lightly over the screen. ‘Come on, let’s tie this douche up and then we’ll go save the woman you love.’

Dean scoffed. ‘Don’t say it like that.’

‘She’s gonna be fine, Dean. And you heard what Grant said; maybe she does love you.’ Sam bent over, dragging Grant off of the couch with a thud, looping the rope around his ankles. ‘There’s a chance -’

‘Can we not right now?’ Dean asked, taking a length to tie Grant’s hands together. ‘We’ll come back for him afterwards. He’s probably gonna need a hospital.’ He glanced down at the bloodied hunter. ‘Or a priest.’

Sam chuckled. ‘At least we didn’t kill him.’

Dean shrugged. ‘Could have gone either way.’

*****

Another scream tore from your throat as Tanya smirked and dug her blade into your thigh, slowly easing it through until it pierced the wood below you. A tiny gasp left her mouth as your screams dissolved into wrenching sobs, and she pouted. ‘Oh honey, only an inch to the left and I’d have got the femoral artery. But then you’d die in like, two minutes, and I can’t have that.’

She stood up, leaving the knife embedded in your flesh, the pain radiating out from the area to join the other injuries she’d inflicted on you in the last few hours. As she moved away, you whimpered, tasting the salt of your tears mixing with the blood on your tongue.

‘And poor old Grant. He really thought I could love him. Really thought I would give him what he needed.’ Tanya laughed. ‘Well, I did give him something. I mean, he  _ loved _ my body. Said it was nice to touch something so smooth and taut. Not like yours.’ She leaned against a table, picking up a long rusty looking nail. ‘I thought hunters were supposed to be the peak of physical condition? I mean, I’ve not seen many female hunters.’ She came closer, keeping her eyes focused on yours. ‘And that made it so much easier to track you down, darling. I mean, you’re pretty unique.’

‘Fuck you.’ You spat, trying to sound strong, but the words were choked on your own blood.

Tanya reached down, flicking the knife embedded in your leg with her index finger, and you cried out in pain, feeling the seat of your jeans soaking through with blood. ‘You really think bravado is going to save you here, Y/N? I’ve waited a long time to get my hands on you, for what you did to my brother.’

‘I sent his skanky demon ass back to hell, you bitch. And I’m going to do the same to you.’ You forced the words out - maybe she’d kill you quicker and this would be over. Dean and Sam knew you’d come home, but they didn’t know your address and Tanya had smashed your phone against the wall when it had rung the first time. Cañon City was a big place.

The succubus gave a thick, rich laugh, dragging the rusty nail down the side of your face. ‘Keep pushing, baby. I’m not going to kill you quickly.’ She paused, standing straight for a second. ‘Looks like your knights in shining armour have found Grant. They’ll probably kill him, but he’s no good to me any more anyway. He got me what I wanted.’ She smiled, returning the nail to the side of your face. ‘I wish I could let you live with all these scars.’ Holding your chin steady with one hand, her strength had you pinned as she pushed the nail further into your skin, and you screamed again, the blood from the nail’s path dripping down your cheek. Tanya kept moving, not stopping until the nail hit your jaw, and then she stood back. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll die of blood loss before the tetanus gets you.’

She rammed the nail down through your left hand, until the flat top was flush with the skin and you felt like the scream you gave was going to rupture your vocal chords.

‘Just fucking kill me,’ you begged, unable to stop yourself. There wasn’t a part of you unmarked, and you could feel your head getting lighter and lighter with every passing moment. ‘Just do it.’

‘But I want you to suffer.’ Tanya pouted. ‘I’m enjoying it.’

You wanted to let your head fall forward, but the last time you’d done that, she’d taken a fingernail. ‘Please…’ You whimpered, not caring for your dignity; you just wanted it to end.

Tanya placed a perfectly manicured finger underneath your chin, tilting your head back. ‘You’re so pathetic. Crying for this to end. Crying over Grant when he ditched your ass. You should be thanking me.’ She smiled, pulling her hand away and licking the blood from her fingers. ‘Hmmm. You taste so deliciously...pitiful.’

Watching her with swollen eyes, you held your breath, waiting for her next move.

‘Okay, here’s the deal. One more scream for me, and I’ll let you die. How does that sound?’

 


	2. Chapter 2

Everything was hazy, and you blinked away tears as you looked up at the succubus who held your life in her very literal hands. She was smiling, almost like one would at a friend, but the malice in her eyes was unmistakable. Her promise to end it hinged on one scream, and she was still thinking about how to make it happen.

‘Please -’ You begged again, feeling a mixture of bile and blood in your throat, wanting nothing more than for her to shove whatever sharp object she had through your heart and end it. Gunshot to the head - nothing could hurt more now.

As Tanya pondered over the damage she wished to inflict, you catalogued your injuries. Her first step had been broken fingers - maybe one of them was intact still. Your left wrist was fractured, along with most of the bones in your actual hand, not that you could feel that much of it because she’d rammed that nail in, and now the grating of flesh on metal was all you could fathom.

The knife in your leg was buried deep in the wood underneath your thigh, and blood was dripping from the seat of the chair onto the floor. You wondered exactly how long it would take for the blood loss to kill you; she’d been close to the artery but not quite close enough. Two minutes to bleed out from a femoral nick, but of course, you weren’t that lucky.

Your right arm was mostly unscathed, although she’d decided on cosmetic damage, much like with your face. Your hair was matted with sweat and blood from the blow to the head that had initially incapacitated you (thanks Grant), and you were sure there was a concussion lurking around. Your right hand was missing a fingernail, and funnily enough, that wound made you feel sicker than the others combined.

It was a funny old thing, how your thoughts wandered when you were close to death. Tanya had taken quite an amount of enjoyment in kicking you around before she’d tied you up, and the grating in your chest indicated some definite damage from her blows. That, and the feeling of choking on your own blood, which was not a pleasant experience in the slightest.

Tanya picked up something heavy and sharp, but your head was lolling forward now, the blood loss from your leg wound taking it’s toll. She pouted, tapping her foot as she grabbed your matted hair in one hand and yanked your head up.

‘You gonna scream for me, Y/N?’ Your mouth fell open of it’s own accord, as blood trickled from the corner, and she sighed impatiently at the glazed look in your eyes. ‘Well, this isn’t any good.’ She twisted the heavy butcher knife in her hand, looking between it and you. ‘You promised me a scream.’

The tip of the knife pressed into your chest, just above your breast, and you simply stared, accepting the inevitable. You were going to die here, at this demon’s hands, and no one was coming for you. ‘Just do it,’ you rasped, and Tanya pressed the blade in a little, enough to break the skin.

‘You’re so pathetic,’ she hissed, continuing the slow penetration of the knife into your skin. ‘Look at you. Giving up so easily.’

You didn’t answer,  not even feeling the tears falling from your eyes. The only thought in your head was of Dean, and Sam, and the time you’d wasted. Maybe in another life you’d get another chance, another go at making things right.

It was a lie, but it was a lie that eased the pain of a knife sliding into your chest.

‘Scream for me, bitch,’ Tanya spat, but you weren’t going to give her what she wanted. You could feel the darkness rushing down to claim you, and you weren’t going to fight.

‘How about you scream?’

*****

‘How about you scream?’ Dean growled, levelling his loaded shotgun at the demon, who looked up in shock, before a malicious grin covered her face. Without speaking, she shoved her arm forward, propelling the knife through Y/N’s chest. Dean cried out, and Sam burst through the door behind him, just as Tanya let Y/N’s hair go, and she slumped down into the chair.

‘Too late.’ Tanya giggled, before shrieking in pain as Sam’s bullet embedded itself in the flesh of her left bicep. She dropped to the floor, rolling over, and finding herself unable to move.

‘Devil’s Trap bullet.’ Sam smirked, jerking his head at Dean. Tanya was down, and unarmed, and Y/N was in serious trouble. ‘Is she alive?’ Dean dashed forward, leaving his shotgun on the side as Sam towered over the down succubus, keeping his gun trained on her as she groaned in pain.

Dean’s hands checked over the wounds, vomit threatening his composure as he saw the state of Y/N. Her wrists were tied almost painfully to the chair, and she’d suffered multiple wounds. One shaking hand reached out, and he checked her pulse, sighing in relief when he found a beat. It was weak, but it was there.

‘She’s still breathing. Knife went in above her heart. She needs a hospital, now.’ 

Tanya laughed. ‘You think she’ll get that far? Take that knife out. Watch her bleed to death.’

‘Shut your mouth,’ Sam growled, kicking the demon hard, and she laughed even louder.

‘You think I care what you do to this body?’ She looked up at the tall hunter, opening her mouth to escape in a cloud of smoke. When nothing happened, confusion struck her and Sam smirked.

‘That bullet does more than put you down, bitch.’

Dean was untying Y/N from the chair, careful not to jostle or aggravate her wounds, and not removing any of the penetrating objects. She’d already lost more blood than he thought possible - what she needed was proper medical attention. His skills with dental floss were  _ not _ going to cover this.

‘Sam.’ He grunted, nodding towards the door. ‘Put her down. We’re done here.’

Tanya looked up, suddenly realising her time was up and she raised a hand, opening her mouth to beg for her life. Sam shook his head. ‘Save it, sweetheart. You’ve got nothing.’ He bent down, pulling the demon-killing knife from the inside of his jacket, and wielding it as Tanya screamed loudly. ‘You chose this place for a reason. No one can hear you.’

‘My vessel! You’ll kill my vessel!’ She shrieked, and Sam paused, looking over at Dean, who shook his head, before leaving with Y/N in his arms.

‘You’ve probably already ridden her to death.’ Sam held the knife against Tanya’s throat, forcing her to turn her head to the side. As he suspected, there was an old bullet wound underneath her ear, almost covered by the thick thatch of blonde hair. ‘Bingo. Bluff failed.’

Tanya shrieked, and Sam drove the knife home, piercing her heart with a deadly blow. The succubus lit up from the inside with golden light.

Sam stood, wiping the knife clean on his jeans, before abandoning the corpse in the empty warehouse.

*****

The coffee was long cold, but he kept staring at it, almost like it might hold the answers to the universe. It had been the longest six hours of his life so far, and he was exhausted. Cañon City General Hospital wasn’t a large establishment, and it had taken more minutes than he thought Y/N had to find the Emergency Room. When they’d finally gotten her inside, the staff had taken her away almost immediately, leaving him stood in the foyer, covered in blood and completely useless.

Sam had parked the car and come to find him, bringing him a change of clothes. They still sat next to him, along with an untouched sandwich and the cold coffee. His brother’s words had not even gotten through to him, and eventually, Sam realised nothing he was doing there was any good, and he’d left to try and fix Grant, who was still tied up at the house. With Tanya dead, there wasn’t much threat, but Sam was driven by a need to save people, even if they were complete douchebags.

Dean didn’t know what he was driven by right now. All he knew was that the woman he’d loved for so fucking long, was laying on an operating table, possibly dying, and he couldn’t do  _ anything _ .

The clock ticked loudly in the waiting room, and Dean kept on staring at the coffee. People, patients and doctors alike, came and went, and he didn’t pay them any attention. He filled in the forms, spoke to the police officer who didn’t look like he gave a shit, and waited. And waited.

The seventh hour came and went, and still, he stared. Froth coagulated on the surface of the drink, and he wondered if coffee could evaporate. Maybe it disappeared and left behind nothing but a brown stain and the remnants of granules in the bottom.

‘Mr Winchester?’ His own name made him jump out of his skin, and he looked up to see a youngish looking doctor, with the name “Cohen” emblazoned on his white lab coat. ‘You came in with Miss Y/L/N, correct?’

‘I did. I’m her...I’m her friend.’ And he’d lost the chance to be more. The doctor’s face was drawn, his mouth pinched like he had to deliver bad news. ‘Is she okay?’

‘She’s alive. But the damage was...extensive.’ The doctor took a breath, holding out an arm, as if to guide him. ‘I can take you to see her, if you like? She’s out of surgery and in recovery.’ Dean nodded, dumbly, following without question as the doctor took him down away from the waiting room and into the ward area. He opened the door to a sectioned off room, much like the others along the hall, and Dean stepped inside, feeling sick the instant he laid eyes on her.

She was a mass of stitches and bandages, one eye swollen almost shut, her skin paler than he’d ever seen. Dean drew closer, seeing the various tubes coming out of her mouth and the IV’s in both her arms.

‘We’ve treated the minor wounds, and she’s currently receiving fluids and antibiotics via the IV’s,’ the doctor started explaining. ‘She’d lost a great deal of blood, and her right lung was punctured in several places. We’ve put her on the ventilator for the time being, just to help her in her recovery.’

‘She’s gonna be okay?’

The doctor was silent for a second, and it was long enough to twist Dean’s insides in terror. ‘I’m not going to lie, Mr Winchester. She is far from out of the woods. The injuries were severe, and possibly life changing. She may never regain use of her left hand, and with the severity of the damage to her leg, she might never walk without some sort of deformity.’

Dean nodded absently, itching to go over and touch her, but afraid to hurt her more. ‘Can I sit with her?’

‘Of course.’ 

As he moved to take the chair next to the bed, very slowly and gingerly placing one hand on her forearm, Dean remembered his brother. ‘My, er, my brother...he’ll be allowed in, won’t he?’

The doctor nodded. ‘Yes, I’ll let the front desk know. I’ll be back in a while to check on her, there’s a panic button if anything changes, or you have concerns.’ He turned away, and Dean barely acknowledged his departure, his eyes fixed on Y/N. She looked so small and broken in the large hospital bed, surrounded by sterile white. The machines beeped loudly, and the ventilator creaked as it breathed for her, and his heart broke.

‘Should have gone with you. Shouldn’t have let you leave on your own.’ He couldn’t even try and stop the tears that fell. ‘I’m so sorry, Y/N. So sorry.’ He bent forward, leaning his head on the bed, wishing he could hold her hand, but knowing it would hurt her more.

Silence echoed through the room, combining with the machines as he focused all his willpower on Y/N. He could call Castiel, ask him to heal her, but the angel hadn’t responded in days. Dean wasn’t sure if that was an option right now.

The door to the room clicked open a few moments later and Dean looked up, seeing Sam come in with fresh coffee and the clothes he’d abandoned in the waiting room. The elder Winchester offered up a half smile, but it was laden with sadness.

‘I spoke to the doctor,’ Sam said, creeping closer. ‘They said that she wasn’t out of danger.’ His voice was immeasurably sad as he stood by his brother, looking down at Y/N. ‘I tried to call Cas. Both ways. No answer and voicemail. I left him a message. Maybe he can help.’

‘Maybe,’ Dean huffed, his eyes lingering on her face.

‘Grant is going to be okay.’ Sam’s words should have made Dean feel better, but he only hated the man that little bit more. He was going to live, and survive, and Y/N was on the edge of losing her life. ‘The effects of the succubus started wearing off once she was dead.’

‘She didn’t die enough.’

Sam nodded at his brother’s words. ‘I know. But she’s dead, and we can get Y/N through this.’

‘She’s a fighter.’ Dean muttered, his hand closing a little tighter around Y/N’s forearm. ‘Keep calling Castiel. I’ll stay with her.’

‘Dean, you need sleep and to change.’

‘Not leaving.’

Sam sighed, placing the clothes on the empty chair next to Dean. ‘I’ll call Cas again. We’ll fix this, Dean. She’s gonna be okay, you just need to -’

Machine flared up, and Dean’s back went ramrod straight as everything went haywire. Y/N’s body twitched once, then started to convulse violently as her eyes shot open. For a second, Dean’s eyes connected with hers - and then her entire body shook in a vicious fit. The door burst open as the machine monitoring her heart went berserk.

‘She’s going into cardiac arrest,’ Dr Cohen shouted, as a nurse burst in with a crash cart, and Dean was pushed out of the way. He cried out, only to find himself held back by Sam, as various doctors and nurses crowded the small room, going to work on Y/N, whilst the machines screamed their discontent.

‘No, Sam, no, I gotta stay, I gotta -’ His protests were cut short as Sam dragged him out of the room, Dean’s everything crumbling away and his tears more excessive than they’d been in a long time. Once outside, away from the drama, Dean collapsed to his knees, sobbing loudly as he watched through the open door, watching them work on her as she lay prone in the bed.

‘Dean -’

The doctors paused, and the heart monitor let out a shrill beep before breaking into a steady scream, that echoed through Dean’s head and heart, shattering them both. He barely registered Sam’s hands on his shoulders, trying to get him to his feet, his green eyes almost bloodshot as he watched the scene playing out before him.

‘Doctor, she’s -’

‘One more go,’ Doctor Cohen insisted, ordering them to charge the paddles. The nurse looked reluctant, but did as he asked, charging the defibrillator, and moments later, Y/N’s body jolted underneath the powerful electric shock. The machine beeped once, then twice, and a rhythm started. Doctor Cohen smiled, looking up at his team. ‘Looks like we have a rhythm. She’s bleeding internally, let’s get her back into surgery before we lose her again.’

‘Dean.’ Sam’s voice urged Dean to his feet as the team prepped Y/N’s stretcher and wheeled her from the room, heading down the corridor to surgery. ‘Dean, she’s gonna get through this. She’s too stubborn to give up. Just like you.’

For the first time in his life, from what he could remember, Dean turned and clung to his baby brother, reversing the roles they’d acted out for so many years. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to, as Sam held him close and let him cry.

*****

‘They’re waiting for you.’

You turned, seeing your mother leaning against the wall of the old study in your childhood home. A frown crossed your face - you’d been stripping your favourite handgun, anticipating your father’s return from a hunt with a werewolf the next state over.

‘Who’s waiting?’

‘You can’t hide in here forever,’ your mom admonished, ruffling your messed up hair. You raised a hand to your face, feeling pain in your cheek, but your fingers grazed over smooth skin. ‘The reaper already said she wasn’t ready for you yet.’

‘Reaper? Mom, I don’t -’

The room disappeared, and you saw the bunker, how it was the last time you’d been there. Dean and Sam were sharing beers over a bout of research, and they were smiling at you as you approached.

‘What we got?’ You asked, ignoring the weirdness of the situation.

‘Nothing here, sweetheart,’ Sam said, pushing you a beer across the table. ‘You shouldn’t be hanging around. You’ve got places to be.’

Dean chuckled. ‘He’s not wrong. You already wasted ten years, Y/N. Don’t waste any more.’

You picked up the beer, taking a long drink before dropping it in surprise. It tasted like plastic and blood, and you scowled. ‘That’s weird.’ Your eyes met Dean’s across the books, and you shook your head. ‘Nothing about this seems off to you?’

‘Apart from you being here?’ He asked, his brilliant green gaze almost going right through you. ‘Baby, you gotta be out there.’ He pointed upwards. ‘You’re just hiding. But trust me, there’s no future in here.’

Grant appeared from the hallway, smiling at you brightly, looking so different from the gaunt figure you’d seen at the house. A flash of blonde hair, Tanya’s smirk and the pain of a knife in your thigh, and you jumped a little. ‘She’s still twitchy. Never could get that to go away.’

Sam stood up, taking your beer away. ‘Come on, Y/N. Stop stalling and go.’

‘Go where?’

Dean’s hand was on yours, and you turned, finding him right beside you. ‘Home.’

Your eyes snapped open to the dim light of a hospital room. There was something in your mouth, reaching down your throat and you caught the end of a conversation, just before you tried to suck in a breath that wouldn’t come.

‘ **_She doesn’t love me. She’s not that stupid._ ** ’

‘Dean!’

Your right hand clawed at your throat, as someone’s arm darted across your field of vision, slamming into a button above your head. With a panicked and muffled cry, you tried to bring up your left hand, only to encounter the shattered bones and pain that went with it.

‘Hold on, hold on, sweetheart, there’s a doctor coming and we’ll get that tube out of your throat, I promise.’ Dean’s voice reached you, but you couldn’t see his face, and you only panicked more. ‘Shit, Sam, is someone - doctor, she’s awake!’

A brown haired man appeared over you, shining a light in your eyes, and you flinched away from it, desperate to get the tube out of your throat. He seemed satisfied with your reaction, and took the light away, placing his hands on your shoulder.

‘Give me a second, Y/N, and let’s get that tube out.’ He pulled at the ventilator tube, removing it from the piece in your mouth, and you whined, feeling his hands grasp the mouthpiece. ‘Give me a big cough, Y/N.’ You obliged, and as the tube came out, you wanted to vomit, feeling like liquid fire had been poured down your throat. ‘Good girl, now, let’s get you upright.’

You were breathing heavily as the bed was raised, but finally, you could see Dean and Sam, stood by your bedside, looking like they hadn’t slept in weeks. The doctor kept moving, checking your vital signs and the injuries you could now feel.

‘Hurts.’ Your voice was like sandpaper and you frowned in pain, looking down at yourself.

‘Let’s get her some water,’ the doctor instructed, and Sam was there like a shot, holding out a glass. ‘Small sips.’

You followed his orders, sipping delicately at the liquid, relief coating your insides at the cool sensation as it washed down your throat.

‘How does that feel?’ The doctor asked.

‘Better.’ You looked down at yourself again, seeing the bandages and casts. ‘What happened?’

‘You were attacked.’ Dean said quickly, giving his brother a sideways glance. ‘Doctor Cohen here has been real good, saved you life like twice or something.’ The doctor smiled.

‘He exaggerates. But you are a very lucky lady, Y/N. You were in quite some danger.’ Your eyes slid to Dean and Sam, knowing that wasn’t the full story, but the doctor remained oblivious. ‘Now, I need to do a full work up, and you’re going to have to stay a while.’

‘Okay,’ you muttered, nodding absently, keeping your eyes on Dean, as he slid into the chair beside you, placing his hand on your forearm. For some reason, it felt warmer than it should, like he’d been holding you there for days. ‘You’ll stay?’ You asked, brightening a little at his smile.

‘Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.’

*****

‘This sucks.’

She was pouting and it was totally adorable. Dean watched as she tried to pick up the small plastic cup, and failed miserably.

‘You can’t give up, Y/N.’ He kept his eyes on her as she tried again, only for the cup to slip through her damaged hands. ‘It’ll get better.’

The pout turned into a scowl as she sat back, letting her arms sink into the bed underneath her. ‘I hate this. I hate this place. I wanna go home.’ Her eyes landed on his, and he felt his chest expand. ‘I don’t wanna be here.’

‘Look, Sam is working on getting Cas here. We just gotta find him.’

Y/N sat up a little straighter, looking down at her battered hands. ‘I don’t feel whole. I don’t feel like me.’

Dean reached out, gently taking her least damaged hand into his. It had been a week since she’d landed in hospital, and whilst she was making excellent progress, she was eager to get home, and get back to her life. For Dean, that brought up the worry that she would once again leave, and he didn’t know how to broach that subject.

‘I know this sucks, but you’re gonna get there. You just gotta keep fighting.’ Before Y/N could open her mouth to answer, Dean’s phone rang and he reached for it, giving her an apologetic look. ‘It’s Cas.’ He pressed the button to take the call, holding the phone up to his ear. ‘Cas? What took you so long? Sam’s looking for you -’ He cut off, frowning. ‘We’re in Cañon City General Hospital, Y/N was hurt and -’ 

The fluttering of wings cut off his voice, as both Y/N and Dean looked up. ‘Cas!’ Y/N exclaimed, as Dean hung up the phone, rolling his eyes as the odd behaviour from the angel. ‘Where were you?’

‘I was in Heaven. There were...issues to attend to.’ The angel was gruff as he approached the bed, slipping his phone into his pocket. ‘I received your messages, and I heard your prayers but I could not come as soon as I hoped.’ His eyes raked over Y/N’s body, assessing her injuries. ‘What happened?’

‘A bitch of a succubus.’ Y/N muttered, eyes downcast as Dean felt guilt pool in his stomach again. ‘Took me by surprise.’

Castiel tilted his head to the side. ‘She tortured you.’

‘Only a little,’ she returned, grinning with little mirth. Dean shook his head.

‘Can you fix her up, Cas? She’s gonna kill someone if she doesn’t get out of here soon.’ The angel regarded Dean, nodding slowly, before walking around the side of the bed, looking down at Y/N, and smiling softly.

‘I can heal your injuries. Is your car outside, Dean?’ The hunter nodded, standing up. ‘I would suggest you bring it round, so you can make your standard escape.’

Y/N grinned, sitting up straighter. ‘That sounds much more like it.’

*****

God, it felt good to be back in your working body. Cas had healed you up as much as possible, but some of the more healed wounds, like the scar on your face, would probably remain, along with the thick line of scar tissue on your leg. You wouldn’t be walking funny or practicing picking up cans for months to come, and you flexed your fingers as you sat in the front seat of the Impala.

‘Sam’s gonna meet us back at the bunker.’ Dean’s tone was casual as he guided the Impala down the back roads on the way home to Lebanon. ‘Good thing we managed to get out before shift change. I feel bad. Doctor Cohen was really good.’

‘He was, but he didn’t have the touch of an angel,’ you quipped, leaning your head on your arm as you turned in your seat to look at the eldest Winchester. ‘You know, when I woke up, I thought I heard you talking.’

It was almost indiscernible, but Dean’s fingers tightened on the wheel as he raised an eyebrow. ‘Sure you weren’t hallucinating? I mean, death’s door, that’s gotta be a hell of a trip.’

‘No. Definitely heard you. Something about…’ You pretended to think, tapping your chin with one finger (fingernail now intact and back where it belonged, thank you Castiel). ‘Not being stupid enough to be in love with you.’

His face paled a little as he kept his eyes on the road. ‘You heard that, huh?’

‘A little.’ You smiled, watching his throat bob as he swallowed. ‘Pull over.’

‘Huh?’ Dean’s eyes shot over to you as you made the request, and you grinned.

‘Pull over.’

‘If you need a restroom, there’s a service station a few miles ahead…’ He trailed off as your hand landed on his thigh, squeezing it softly through the denim. ‘Oh. You’re not -’

‘I’m not.’ You affirmed, scooting across the seat closer to him. ‘Pull over, Dean. I’ve wasted ten damn years, and I’m not about to waste any more time.’

‘We’re in the middle of nowhere, wouldn’t you rather wait -’

You shook your head. ‘Nope. I’m gonna prove something to you.’ 

The car slowed down as Dean pulled it over to the side of the long stretch of road, stopping by a patch of trees. He turned to look at you, switching the engine off. ‘Prove what?’

Almost immediately, you were across the seat, straddling his lap, your hands holding his face in place. For his part, Dean looked bewildered by the move, but not unhappy, and his body warmed at your touch. ‘Stupid is as stupid does, Winchester.’

‘Forrest Gump, really?’ He asked, pulling his head back a little. ‘That’s your line?’

‘Hell yeah, it is.’ You grinned, smashing your mouth to his, tongues jumping straight into battle against one another. He tasted amazing, sweet and tangy, the hint of coffee on his tongue as you brushed it with your own. Breaking for air, you groaned deeply. ‘I’ve imagined doing that forever.’

He smirked, jerking his hips upwards so you could feel exactly how much he’d enjoyed it. ‘Why didn’t you do it sooner?’

You hooked your wrists around the back of his neck, laughing a little. ‘Backed the wrong horse. But I know which one I’m riding now.’ You rolled your pelvis, grinding down on him as you went back to kissing him. He moaned against your lips, his hands sneaking up underneath your shirt, holding your waist as you sucked on his tongue in a positively lewd manner.

‘You sure you wanna do it here?’ Dean asked, panting heavily as you kissed a path down his jaw. ‘I mean, there’s a bed at the bunker.’

‘We can use the bed later,’ you promised, leaning back and knocking the horn of the car. ‘Although, space is a little confined here.’

‘Back seat is more spacious,’ he suggested, and you smiled, scrambling off of him to climb over the seats, only to find yourself pinned beneath his weight. ‘Sorry. I like being on top.’

‘I bet.’ You reached between your bodies, cupping his thick bulge in your hand. ‘Show me what you got, Winchester.’ Dean groaned, leaning down to bite at your neck gently, the hand not holding him up moving to grope your breast through your shirt. ‘Fuck, rough hands.’

‘Want me to slow down?’ He asked, grinning when you shook your head. ‘Good, cos I’ve been waiting a long time to do this.’ He dragged your shirt upwards, not wasting any time in pulling your bra cup down so he could get at your already-hard nipple. You whined loudly as he slid his lips over your skin, suckling the hard bud into his mouth.

Your back arched almost automatically, allowing him the freedom to slide one hand underneath your body, unhooking your bra. His mouth kept working at your breast, and you cried out as his teeth scraped the sensitive skin, prompting a chuckle from him. He released you with a wet noise, and you gasped, your fingers pulling at his layers.

‘You wear too many clothes.’

‘I could say the same of you,’ he retorted, pulling at your shirt until it was over your head, finding it’s way to the front seat. ‘Fuck, you’re so beautiful.’ You were mindful of the fresh scar on your chest, but Dean bent down, swiping his tongue over the tender area, and you mewled quietly, your hands pushing his jacket and overshirt off together, before you went to work on his t-shirt. ‘You want this off, baby?’

You nodded, and he stopped touching you, rearing up to help you pull his shirt off. When he was finally topless, you hummed appreciatively at the sight. ‘You always moan about a dad bod, but you’re fucking sexy as hell, Dean.’

A blush coloured his cheeks, as he looked down, watching you pull your bra off and fling it away. ‘Fuck, not so bad yourself, sweetheart.’ He fell on you again, hands wandering everywhere, his mouth touching on one nipple then the other, like a kid in a sweet shop that couldn’t decide which gummies he wanted. ‘I don’t even know where to start with you.’

‘How’s about we start by taking our pants off?’ You groaned, your hands grabbing at the denim encasing his ass, and he squeaked, making you giggle. ‘Sorry, were you not expecting that?’

‘You’re grabby,’ he accused, before grinning widely. ‘I like it.’

‘Take your damn pants off.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ He pushed up onto his knees, unbuckling his pants as you did the same. In the small space, it was difficult, but after much giggling and moving around, you were down to your panties, breathing heavily as Dean went the whole hog and removed his boxers. Your eyes widened as you saw what was hidden beneath the layers of plaid, your tongue darting out to lick your lips. For his part, Dean looked proud of what he was packing. ‘Like what you see?’

‘Fuck yes.’ Your hands reached for him again, pulling him down into a bruising kiss. ‘I know we should probably take this slow, but I can’t wait. I want you, Dean.’

He bucked against you, his thick cock pushing against the already soaked fabric of your pants. ‘Want you too.’ His fingers tugged your panties to the side, and you whined as he brushed against your slick folds, only to get louder when he found your clit. ‘Do you like these panties?’

You shrugged. ‘I’m not overly concerned -’ The sound of ripping fabric filled the car and Dean held up the piece of shredded cotton, looking exceedingly pleased with himself. ‘About my underwear,’ you finished lamely, watching as he tossed them into the front with the rest of the discarded clothes. 

‘I’ll buy you new ones. Sexy lacy ones.’ His fingers moved against your wet pussy again, and you swallowed down the retort that you’d barely thought of. ‘You’re fucking drenched -’ He moaned, pulling his hand away and tasting your essence on his fingers. ‘When I get you into a bed, I’m gonna make you come on my tongue, you got that?’

‘Fuck,’ you gasped, watching as he grabbed his cock, lining himself up with your soaked entrance. ‘Dean, please,’ your entire body throbbed, and you reached for him, feeling him push into you as his body came flush with yours. ‘Oh god -’

‘So tight and wet, Y/N,’ his words were swallowed down by your mouth, and you cried out against him as his pelvis came flush with yours, the thick crown of his cock settled against the entrance to your womb. You could almost feel his pulse through the connection of your bodies, and your body reflexively clenched around him, drawing a deep groan from his chest.

For a few moments, he kept kissing you passionately, his cock held tightly inside your body, and your fingers curled against his shoulder blades, pulling him closer. When he started to move, you cried out, the friction almost too much to bear, and you felt like you were near to the edge already.

‘Didn’t waste ten years, sweetheart,’ he purred against your throat, his left hand pulling your right from his back, lacing your fingers together. ‘Just took us some time.’ He accentuated his words with hard thrusts, and you whimpered in agreement. ‘Gonna spend the next ten years and more showing you,’ he groaned as you pulled your knees up and hooked your ankles around his back, ignoring the squeaking of the leather under your skin. ‘Exactly how much I love you.’

‘God, Dean -’ Your eyes fluttered shut briefly, before opening again and focusing on his green orbs. ‘I love you too.’

‘You’ve no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that,’ he whispered, before closing his mouth over yours once more. His hips surged against you, and you felt his free hand wiggle between your bodies, his thumb seeking your clit with ridiculous accuracy. He massaged the swollen nub gently, and you cried out, breaking the kiss as your orgasm swelled and pulsed through your body. Dean groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder, his cock swelling harder inside you. ‘Fuck, I can’t hold out, baby.’

‘Oh god, Dean, I’m not -’ You cut off, trying to think through the fog of pleasure, suddenly embarrassed to convey that you weren’t on any kind of birth control and you’d both made a rookie mistake.

Dean grunted, thrusting hard again, before cursing loudly and pulling out, just in time to spurt thick ropes of come over your belly. You looked down, panting heavily as you ran a finger through the mess he’d made, bringing it up to your mouth and tasting him on your skin. Dean groaned again, shaking his head as he held his still-dripping cock over your stomach.

‘You are the girl of my dreams,’ he muttered, and you took your finger out of your mouth with a pop.

‘Just wait until I suck your cock,’ you replied, smirking. ‘Have we got something to clean this mess up?’

Dean nodded, picking up his shirt from the back of the front seat. ‘I can drive with just the flannel on.’ He dropped the shirt onto your stomach, and you cleaned up, watching as he climbed from the car and quickly dressed, giving you the time and space to get dressed yourself.

‘We should probably keep some wipes or something in here,’ you suggested, pulling your shirt over your head. ‘And I’ll get back on the pill. I hadn’t really bothered since -’ You paused, not wanting to bring up the ex after such an enjoyable experience. ‘But anyway…’

‘You expecting to do it in the Impala a lot?’ Dean teased, leaning against the door as you climbed out, dragging your pants over your hips and grimacing at the feeling of going commando. Once you were dressed, you threw a smirk at him, knowing you looked ravished in the dim moonlight.

‘Oh Dean.’ You placed your hands on his chest. ‘You have no idea.’


End file.
